Of Fighting and Falling
by Invaluable
Summary: Harry hears singing and decides to investigate. COMPLETED. HPDM.
1. Singing

It began with music. One minute, everything was fine. Harry was outside, sitting by the lake, enjoying the sun, the grass, the sound of the water. He laughed occasionally when there was a joke being made and he joined in the Snape-bashing with Ron. It was one of those days where the pressures of homework and Voldemort could almost be forgotten because he had his two best friends by his side and _nothing_ could go wrong.

The next minute, there was singing.

It was very faint and it took him a moment to figure out that it _was_ singing to begin with. He looked at Hermione, who had her back against a tree and a book propped up on her lap, but she didn't seem to notice it and Ron, who had gotten up to throw rocks into the lake, had ears only for the distant splash of his rocks breaking the surface of the water and sinking to the bottom.

"I'll be back," he said, his ever-unsatisfied curiosity getting the best of him. He patted the bits of grass off his pants and followed the sound which had so enticed him.

As he got closer, the sound became louder and louder until he could make out the melody, then the words. The song was unfamiliar to him, but it was rather catchy. He realized, suddenly that the owner of the voice was lying on the floor not five feet away. His breath caught in his throat.

Malfoy was on the ground, leaves tangled in his hair, right knee bent while his left ankle rested upon it. His eyes were tightly closed and he was yelling out his song as loud as he was able, his hands playing some sort of invisible instrument, the foot on the ground tapping out the rhythm. So Harry did the only thing he could think of:

He laughed.


	2. Fighting

Author's note: When I say completed, I mean just that. The fic's done with. I've written all of it. I just haven't _posted_ all of it. Hence, I can't help you much with the length of the chapters (or the fic itself, actually, as it's only five chapters long). I wrote this for the livejournal community fivebyfiction. And er...that's it. I know the entire thing is terribly cliche, but I was really writing it just to prove to myself that I COULD write a chaptered fic. And I did. Even if it's short, the chapters are shorter, and it's incredibly overdone. bow Enjoy.

* * *

Most anyone else who had been caught in such a position would not act as Malfoy did. Most people, caught unawares in that way would turn bright red, stutter something incoherent, and run away.

However, whether it was because Malfoy was too eloquent to stutter or because he lacked the ability to blush, he did neither of these things, and more importantly, he did _not_ run away. One would think that, having been caught and laughed at by Harry Potter, he would at the very least consider himself at a slight disadvantage, but as he stood up, he gave Harry a scathing glare that, while slightly softened by the bright green leaves poking out of his tangles hair, clearly showed that he was in charge of this encounter.

Harry swallowed.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Potter?" he spat, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Maybe I should be asking you the same thing," returned Harry, doing his best to match Malfoy's look, minus the leaves.

"I was minding my own business, Potter. You should do the same! Learn not to eavesdrop on people." His voice was raised, but only slightly. A light bit of tension plucked at his muscles and it was then that Harry realized that this was more than just their usual enmity.

Draco was _pissed_.

This realization did not, however, cause Harry to back down or turn away. Instead, it served only to fuel Harry's own irrational anger. Irrational, of course, because he was in the wrong. He _shouldn't_ have been listening to Malfoy sing and he shouldn't have laughed at him. It was mean, but this was Malfoy and somehow, being mean didn't count if it was directed towards a Malfoy.

As Harry saw it, the other's anger was more than enough reason for him to be angry too. So when he said, "It's not _my_ fault you sound like a girl," he felt completely justified, so much so that he almost didn't realize that Draco was going to punch him until his fist was about to collide with the side of his face.

But Harry was lightning fast and moved back a step, so that Malfoy missed. Unfortunately, this also caused him to lose his balance and fall backwards onto the ground. This was just what Malfoy needed apparently because he was on Harry in a second.

They struggled for what seemed like ages, Harry flipping them over, Malfoy trying to kick and bite. Hands and feet flew everywhere, as did Harry's glasses and as they fought, they hurled yells and insults at each other. They aimed blows, missed, yanked hair, spit, and screamed until their bodies gave up, and they lay their, staring at the rapidly darkening sky, completely out of breath.


	3. Kissing

For a long time they lay there. The only sound came from their breathing, which was hard and heavy. They were completely exhausted, unable to move so much as a toe. Harry closed his eyes, basking in the pain that throbbed throughout his body, enjoying the buzzing in his head, the receding adrenaline.

His entire body was warm and tingling. He was sure that he'd be bruised all over in the morning, but he took comfort in the fact that he'd done some serious bruising himself, judging by his raw knuckles. He flicked out a tongue to moisten his dry lips and tasted blood, smiling at the metallic twang that now invaded his mouth.

Very faintly, he heard an out-of-breath, "I kicked your ass," come from somewhere near his ear. He hadn't realized that Malfoy was so close to him and suddenly, his body was warm for entirely different reasons.

Still he managed an equally weak, "You wish."

There was a silence then, a long and incredibly bearable silence. There was no movement, no sound. There was only existence, and the feeling of Malfoy lying beside him, breathing beside him. Everything was completely still.

The word that came to Harry's mind was _perfection_.

Of course, perfection is fated to not last very long and in a moment, it was ruined by Malfoy's stirring.

"Potter," Malfoy said quietly, so quietly that it was more alarming than the blows he'd just received. Harry felt him turn on his side and started to turn his head to look at him, but before he could do so, Malfoy's mouth was on his.

His first reaction was, surprisingly, to kiss back, but some part of him was yelling at him that that wasn't what his reaction should be. So, he considered instead that he should shove Malfoy away and perhaps call him a faggot, but when he reached up a hand to do so, he found instead that he was pulling Malfoy closer to him.

Suddenly, they were kissing, _really_ kissing, their bodies pressed tightly against each other, moving together. Their mouths burned together and the buzzing in Harry's head became almost unbearable. Their tongues battled and it was as though they were fighting again, only with more heat. They rubbed against each other, wanting more, forcing their bodies as close as possible, letting the friction between them fill them up until they thought they'd burst.

And then they did, they burst in a display of bright lights and dazzling explosions.


	4. Dating

A/N: Just a quickie to mention that this is the penultimate chapter, so yes, the next one is the end of this story. Again, I apologize for the short chapters and the clicheosity of the whole thing (though Dana assures me that it's the quality is more important than quantity and that as far as she's concerned, it's not all that cliche). bow Enjoy.

* * *

It had been exactly seven weeks, seven weeks and three days since what could only be called their _fateful meeting_. Since then, there had been many more. Hidden kisses beneath desks, passionate fumblings behind stairways, casual glances when no one was looking, this was what they lived for.

Sometimes, they talked and while this was far more rare than their (already rare) moments of passion, it was also much more fulfilling. In seven weeks and three days, they had each gotten to know things about the other that they had never dreamed of knowing or indeed, dreamed of wanting to know.

And now, when time seemed such a fleeting thing, something that not just slipped through their fingers but flew by them, Harry was afraid to call it what it was, so he didn't. He didn't call it anything. Sometimes, he let his kisses tell Draco, sometimes, it was said in a quiet look, because he knew that Draco knew it too so words weren't necessary.

They were afraid, both of them, though Draco would never admit it. They both knew there were _consequences_ and that everything they had ever hoped for could fall apart around them, and yet they moved forward. Whether it was because Draco was addicted to the taste of Harry's skin or because Harry couldn't imagine _not_ having Draco to go to when he was upset (and indeed, did not remember how he had gotten along so well without him), they found it simply wouldn't end.

Harry was the first one who said it.

"I love you."

They were in the midst of things when he said it so when Draco lifted his head from Harry's lap, eyes filled with lust and asked, "What?" Harry simply said, "Nothing, go _on_," and wriggled his hips eagerly.

But they had both heard it, the three words that had come from Harry's lips. So, a week later, they were yelling at each other behind a locked classroom door and Harry screamed, "Then why the _fuck_ are you still here?"

And Draco screamed right back, "Because I love you!" before storming out.

They both cried that night and the next day, they returned to the same classroom and held each other tight, both of them whispering promises to never let go, to never fight again.

They did know, however, that this was ridiculous, now more so than ever. They had let it go too far. They weren't supposed to feel like this, they weren't supposed to fall in love.

But Harry was still afraid, so he said nothing. So it was Draco's turn to bring it up first.

"This can't go on."

And Harry replied, "I know."


	5. Ending

A/N: The last chapter. Thank you to all my reviewers. I apologize (because I can't apologize enough) yet again for the short chapters, for the shortness of the story itself. I hope you've enjoyed it and if you have, that you enjoy the end as well. Until the next fic, my dears.

* * *

They both knew it was coming. They both knew it had to happen. When they were together, they could pretend that nothing bad would ever happen, that they could live protected by each other, reality was fantasy and their love was the only truth. But eventually, reality, the world, would reclaim them, and they would be on opposite sides of the line, the line which not even love could cross.

"I don't want it to end," said Harry because he didn't.

"It has to," said Draco, because it did. "Don't cry."

"I wasn't going to," but this was a lie because he could already feel the tears whelming up inside him.

"Me neither," but Harry knew that this was a lie too.

"Kiss me?"

"Harry, don't make this harder tha-"

"_Please_."

And he wanted to kiss him, so he did. He took Harry's face in both his hands, closed his eyes and pressed his lips softly against that beautiful mouth that he knew so well. Harry held on to Draco's waist, clutching desperately at his rumpled white shirt.

He pulled away slightly, hugged Harry tightly, and said, "Good night," before turning away.

When he was gone, Harry cried.


End file.
